Bizarre... I've been turned down... yet I feel better than I normally do. Interesting how things work sometimes.

Biology...thank the gods for it...

So many things have changed for me in the last few days. I don't really know why... but it could have something to do with me straightening things out with Tyler, and having the name Kiwi officially retired. 

I got my poem for English done, and my teacher is going to turn out to be okay after all, so it seems. 

Brandon is inexplicably adorable... I really don't understand it. I gave up trying to understand myself rather a long time ago, so... this is really no time to start. 

I changed Seb's Song of the Week... to one that I really, really love. Wait, I really, really love every song I put on there... oh well.

"So much wasted, and this moment keeps slipping away..." - Peter Gabriel, "In Your Eyes"

So. I got to spend half the day with Tyler yesterday... Grace wants me to ask him to Sweetheart... but I'm not entirely sure I want to go to Sweetheart, peroid... with anybody. I might go as friends with someone, but given recent events I'm not sure the more-than-friends thing would be something I could handle. 

My mum asked today could she borrow an hour of my time. I asked today could she borrow an hour of my time after this semester was over. She said yes. I love answering questions with questions. 

I totally did not screw my solo up... but I can't sightread. 

Tyler has beautiful eyes. 'Twas a good thing they had blinding lights on the stage, otherwise I would've gotten distracted by them and screwed my solo up. The stands at Olwein were purple, which I found amusing. 

I'm at Chelswyn's house... "working" on science. Actually, we're taking a break, cos we're nearly done with benchmark four. After this, just one to go! Vince called, to BRAG... who'dve thunk?

I talked with Ali on the phone for nigh on two hours last night... about anything and everything. Unfortunately, I was not really reduced to ash, swept up, and flushed down the toilet. 

"Nothing matters now, nothing matters now, nothing matters, oh yeah..." - Franz Ferdinand

So. See you all. 

So. I'm on again. I was depressed... until Brandon got online. I'm shaking up my second semester schedule... wahoo. Yeah. And, Sawie... if'n thou readest this... it's get loose. Lookin the lyrics you sent me.

So yeah. Here I sit, broken-hearted... and no, I can't finish that with "tried to S*** but only farted"... that's bathroom graffiti. I'm just broken-hearted and researching drugs for health class doesn't help. Learning about the dangers of drugs make me sad, and then I think about it... it's coming up on Andy's second anniversary. Well, it's this fall, but now I'm thinking about it all the time. So that, in addition to my current... feelings... about Aaron, and the weirdness about... well, changing sexuality. That's always odd, so I'm told... So my emotions are basically all over the place. Wait, that's not right... they're mostly down. Not all over the place. 

I missed Jazz Band this morning and now i've only got two rehearsals before contest... great. What's the betting that I die the day of competition because my heart breaks because I suck so bad? We heard the other Jazz band play and they're meg better than we are... DE-pressing. so. After school today I have to talk to Mrs. Temeyer and Mrs. Powell... and shove something under Ms. Chester's door... and give Danielle her CD at speech... and pick up my speech clothes... and then work on science at Chelsea's house until I decide I need to go home and do my Geometry homework... which I could be doing now... oh well. 

So yeah... let's just say I'm unhappy.

I think I'm deteriorating. I feel somehow that I've lost him, even though the rational part of my mind tells me that this is not so. The part of me that is not ruled by reason, the part that is wild and untamed, tells Rationale what it has known all along: on some level, my life is dependend upon my relationship with him. He was always someone who understood. I told him all those months ago that I wasn't leaving him because of anything he did, or any change in the way I felt about him. It's like in the song "Bottom of a Bottle" by Smile Empty Soul -- I needed some time alone to deal with issues. I was adapting to high school, dealing with new people... questioning my sexuality... lots of things. Now I've got it straightened out and it seems like he doesn't want to even really talk to me any more. There were probably ten words in that e-mail...

I wear the bracelet he gave me around my wrist. The band is made of leather, which is a big thing for a vegetarian like me. But he gave it to me, so I wear it, despite the fact that it's against my beliefs. Because the thing I believe in above all other things is love: more than freedom, more than justice, more than truth, more than music, more than vegetarianism. And now, whether it's the truth or not, he's stamped on my heart after ripping it out with bolts of lightning. He's cut it into little pieces and fed it to the dogs. 

I should just fall into the pit where the dogs lie. I should let them eat my flesh... if indeed even the dogs would have it. I would cast myself into the ocean for him, and yet he does not respond to that. 

I've been shattered.



































And yes, I've got a new poll.

Missing
All I understood
Waiting
To get back to good
Hoping
I don't disappear
Praying
I don't succumb to fear
Drowning
In the bathtub water
Turning
Cold is getting hotter
Freezing
Turn it all back down
Leaving
Now no one's around
Knowing
I have hit the floor
Knocking
On Death's iron door

The tears are cold
From the empty inside
Misery untold
Spawn of being denied

I didn't want him to leave
But in truth I let him go
No way I could decieve
But I needed time to grow

I hope tomorrow dawns
Before I lay my soul to waste
I know I can't go on
One last kiss I wish to taste

He radiates the chill
That's seeped into my bones
He's stolen all my will
I'm down beneath the stones

The tears are cold
From the empty inside
Nothing has been told
No more need to hide

Yes, I realize that I put two of the same entries on. It's artistic expression. Get over it.

So. It's a snow day. I'm going to Chelsea's house at 1 to work on the nasty science benchmarks... so I'll be off by then. I did some reasearch for my vegetarianism speech... way-hoo. I found some lyrics... I'm browsing allposters.com and hottopic.com for Green Day merch. My hands and feet are cold. My sister and her friend are watching Full House... Drew Tate is infinitely hotter than Frankie Muniz. I'm sorry. I finally get to watch the Labyrinth at Carrie's house. I updated Seb's Song of the Week

So. It's a snow day. I'm going to Chelsea's house at 1 to work on the nasty science benchmarks... so I'll be off by then. I did some reasearch for my vegetarianism speech... way-hoo. I found some lyrics... I'm browsing allposters.com and hottopic.com for Green Day merch. My hands and feet are cold. My sister and her friend are watching Full House... Drew Tate is infinitely hotter than Frankie Muniz. I'm sorry. I finally get to watch the Labyrinth at Carrie's house. I updated Seb's Song of the Week

Well, today was a total waste of... energy, i guess.
aah! my computer just eeped!

anyway...I printed off Zach's story. Zach is an amazing writer, despite what you think.

so yeah... i emailed people, i wrote things, i sketched things, i threw things... normal day... dadada....

and yeah. I like strudel. My mom had me convinced she was making strudel today but they turned out to be white chocolate macedamia nut cookies. Scary ones, too. 

I died, too. Yep.

The Kinks are a superfine band. Awesome. Pure rock gems, the lot of them. I've been listening to "Everyone's In Show Biz". Muy goodful song. 

And yeah. I'm about done. My life is severely boring...

I was attacked by two spiders today. I can still feel them crawling on my flesh...

You know what sucks? being caught stealing chocolate. 

And my thought for today.... perfection is caught most purely by listening to perfect music (Green Day, naturally) in a perfect situation (a bath) at the perfect temperature... although I suppose it might be more perfect if you were accompanied by a perfect person.... No, I am not dropping Tyler hints. Where did you get that idea?

Well, I've updated just about everything else... so ta-da! the Amazing Sebhar shall write in her diary!

Well, a lot of people from Manchester have joined recently... a lot of Cheerleaders *runs and hides* but also [D_Roberg] and [Natlek] and other assorted schwaydudes. but yeah.

also i have a tumor shaped like a trombone growing out of my left hip.

7 days until my christmas party... not even... and we've a room without drywall on its walls. I declare the situation nearly hopeless. 

I LOVE TYLER! ack! i put that on here? oh well. I guess I don't care who knows... but I most certainly was NOT staring at him during show choir practice... but he does look really good in black... CRAP!

Favorites:
( Color ) Really dark red... and black. 
( Animal ) platypus
( Vehicle ) Corvette Calloway Twin Turbo... take me to heaven!
( Flower ) Black Rose
( Beer ) root.
( Liquor ) eh.
( Soda ) ginger ale! YUM!
( Food ) Vegetarian Lasagna
( Book ) 'The Shining'
( Author ) Stephen King
( Band ) Green Day
( CD ) Dookie. By Green Day.
( Song ) 'Coming Clean'
( Movie ) Edward Scissorhands
( Director ) Tim Burton
( Country ) CANADA!!!
( State ) Happiness
( City ) Vancouver
( School Subject ) English
( Movie genre ) Horror
( Extracurricular Activity ) Dance Team and Marching Band! wOoT!
Do you:
( Color your hair? ) not anymore.
( Have tattoos? ) Sadly, no
( Piercings? ) two, in ears.
( Have a boyfriend/girlfriend/both? ) not at the moment
( Floss daily? ) oh aye
( Own a webcam? ) ach, no
( Ever get off the damn computer? ) more and more recently
( Sprechen Sie Deutsch? ) Deutsch? nope.
( Hablar Espanol? ) si
( Quack? Quack quack? ) *nods* quackity, quack, quack. Quack-quacken.
Have You Ever:
( Gotten a speeding ticket? ) Nope
( How fast? ) ---
( DUI? ) Nope
( Been in a wreck? ) yep
( Been arrested? ) ...
( Stolen a car? ) Nope
( Stolen anything? ) yep
( Smoke? ) no.
( Pot? ) nope.
( Crack? ) nope.
( Drink? ) er.... maybe...
( Been so drunk you couldn't remember your name? ) no
( Been so drunk you didn't care that you couldn't remember your name? )no
( Posed for nude pics? ) no
( Considered a life of crime? ) oh yeah.
( Considered being a hooker? ) no
( Maybe a pimp? ) no
( Cheated on someone? ) no
( Been married? ) will be soon... ;)
( Been divorced? ) nope.
( Split personalities? ) nope. whaddya mean 'nope' ?!?? i mean no. i dont. yes we do!!!
( Schizophrenic? )maybe....
( Obsessive? ) obsessive of what? ask my friends.. they know who...
( Compulsive? ) nope
( Obsessive Compulsive? ) no.
( Panic? ) heh.. i did today.. i actually had tears and everything.
( Anxiety? ) not alot
( Depressed? )More often than not
( Suicidal? ) not lately
( Homicidal? ) No
( Genocidal? )no
( Pedophile? ) no. thats just sick.
( Obsessed with hate? ) no
( Mutilate animals? )no
( Idolize infamous criminals? ) oh yeah. Geoffrey P. Dahmer was just.. THE greatest.*rolls eyes*
( Dream of mutilated bodies, blood, death, and gore? ) occasionally...
( Dream of doing those things instead of just seeing them? ) nope.

and my favourite quotes from A Hard Day's Night (the movie), my favourite line from the butterfly effect, various random websites, and a few good songs

He’d just rattle them at me, and in public, too. 
She looks more like him than I do. 
Don’t see many of these nowadays, do ya? 
They’re dead grotty. 
Well I’ll have a bash. 
There’s someone coming! Quick! Hide! 
Oh, you mean that posh bird who gets everything wrong? 
Don’t cane me, sir, I was lead astray. 
My name’s Betty. 
No actually we’re just good friends. 
I now declare this bridge open. 
He hasn’t got a wife, look at his sweater. 
Turn left at Greenland. 
Are you a mod or a rocker? Um, no, I’m a mocker. 
What would you call that hairstyle you’re wearing? Arthur. 
Who’s that little old man? 
Keep Britain tidy. 
Look, it’s a bird! 
BOUGEOUS CLICHÉ
Hello, our lot, everybody happy? 
I’m a drummer, not a wet nurse. 
Sorry we hurt your field, mister. 
John hasn’t got any nerves. 
-A Hard Day’s Night

It must be nice to be so goddamn perfect. 
-The Butterfly Effect

www.rejectionhotline.com
www.paperweight.com
www.badgerbadgerbadger.com
www.superbad.com
www.greenday.com
www.seether.com
http://launch.yahoo.com/video/default.asp?vid=1110711&redirectURL=http://launch.yahoo.com/artist/default.asp?artistID1010787

Warbrain by Alkaline Trio
Need More Time by the Epoxies
To the World by Strike Anywhere
Heaven is Falling by the Ataris
Normal Days by Denali
The Expatriate Act by The World/Inferno Friendship Society
Jaw, Knee, Music by NOFX
Nothing to Do When You’re Locked in a Vacancy by None More Black
Sink, Florida, Sink by Against Me

Jack's Lament from Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas
***********************************
There are few who deny
At what I do I am the best
For my talents are renowned far and wide
When it comes to suprises
In the moonlit night
I excel without ever even trying
With the slightest little effort
Of my ghost-like charms
I have seen grown men give out a shriek
With the wave of my hand .
And a well placed moan
I have swept the very bravest off their feet
Yet year after year
It's the same routine
And I grow so weary
Of the sound of screams
And I JACK..THE PUMPKIN KING
Have grown so tired of the same old thing
Oh somewhere deep inside of these bones
An emptyness began to grow
There's something out there far from my home
A longing that I've never known
I'm the master of fright and a demon of light
And I'll scare you right out of your pants
To a guy in Kentucky, I'm Mister Unlucky
And I'm known throughout England and France
And since I am dead, I can take off my head
To recite Shakesperean quotations
No animal nor man can SCREAM like I can
With the fury of my recitations
But who here would ever understand
That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin
Would tire of his crown, If they only understood
He'd give it all up, if he only could....
Oh theres an empty place in my bones
That calls out for something unknown
The fame and praise come year after year
Does nothing for these empty tears....
***********************************

From Stephen King's It

You can live with fear, I think, Stan would have said if he could. Maybe not forever, but for a long, long time. It’s offense you can’t live with, because it opens up a crack inside your thinking, and if you look down into it you see there are live things down there, and they have little yellow eyes that don’t blink, and there’s a stink down there in that dark, and after awhile you think maybe there’s a whole other universe down there, a universe where a square moon rises in the sky, and the stars laugh in cold voices, and some of the triangles have four sides, and some have five, and some of them have five raised to the fifth power of sides. In this universe there might grow roses which sing. Everything leads to everything, he would have told them if he could. Go to your church and listen to your stories of Jesus walking on water, but if I saw a guy doing that I’d scream and scream and scream. Because it wouldn’t look like a miracle to me. It would look like an offense.  -430

He knew that real loneliness was a smeary red: the color of the taillights of the car ahead of you reflected on wet hottop in a driving rain. â€“ 553-554

“Oh shit the time goes by,� –554

…the guy who had played with the Moondogs on Saturday nights and who had gone on to become a mathematics professor at Cornell would suddenly find himself on stage with the band, a Fender guitar strapped over his shoulder, whopping out “Gloriaâ€? or “Surfin’ Birdâ€? with gleeful drunken ferocity. What was it Springsteen said? No retreat, baby, no surrender… but it was easier to believe in the oldies on the record player after a couple of drinks… - 575

…in the end he had outgrown the nightmares that were on the dark side of all those laughs… - 576

40 Reasons to Hate Bush
1. The national debt under Bush Jr. has increased so drastically that the average American’s estimated share of national debt will be an astronomical $24,000 - Compared to $500 when Dubya first took office. 
2. Under Bush Jr. there are now 43 million Americans with no health insurance. 
3. Responsible for an unemployment rate of 6%. There are now 9 million people out of work in America - 3.3 million more than when Bush took office. 
4. He cut healthcare benefits for war veterans. 
5. Bush Jr. deserted his unit during Vietnam and was reportedly AWOL for over a year from his assigned unit: the Texas Air National Guard, or as it’s referred to by other military outfits, the “Champagne Divisionâ€?. 
6. Despite a 13% unemployment rate among those aged 16-24, Bush Jr. proposed to eliminate Youth Opportunity Grants - a program that provides job training to the nation’s youth. A $225M program in 2002 is now being done away with so Bush can have more money for Iraq. 
7. He cut funding for 375,000 low income college students and reduced Pell grant amounts to such a severe degree that it effectively caused 84,000 students to no longer be eligible for Pell grants. Pell amounts have been overall reduced for 1.5 million students... it’s safe to say that the Bush daughters aren’t eligible for financial aid, so this won’t affect the opulent lives of anyone Bush Jr. may know. 
8. Withdrew from the International Criminal Court. 
9. First President in US history to refuse United Nations election inspectors (during the 2002 US elections). 
10. All-time US (and world) record holder for most corporate campaign donations. 
11. The Bush administration had twice as many FBI agents fighting the drug war than fighting terrorism prior to 9/11. Even after 9/11, more than 2,000 FBI agents are wasting their valuable time assigned to the war on drugs. 
12. His proposed “free tradeâ€? agreements would result in the loss of US jobs to foreign markets and the exploitation of third world workers. 
13. John Ashcroft. 
14. He has taken 11 official executive actions to undermine reproductive rights... how long will it be before a woman is stripped of her right to choose? 

15. Failed to fulfill pledge to get Osama bin Laden “dead or aliveâ€?. 

16. Wasted federal resources on a PR trip to Baghdad where he staged a Thanksgiving meal at 6 AM with troops that were screened based on their political affiliation. And the turkey? It was a prop. 

17. His refusal to fire - or even reprimand - Lt. General Jerry “Our God is bigger than their Godâ€? Boykin. Perhaps it’s because Boykin said of the President, “George Bush was not elected by a majority of voters in the United States. He was appointed by God. He’s in the White House because God put him there.â€? 

18. After sending troops off to die in an unjust and unprovoked war, he still has yet to attend any soldiers’ funerals. 

19. His shameless nepotism for the rich and powerful. Elizabeth Cheney (daughter of ol’ Dick) got hooked up with a cool gig at the State Department where she was in charge of the $129 million Middle East partnership initiative and then was moved over to Daddy and Uncle Dubya’s campaign payroll. 

20. He dropped his dog on its head. 

21. Bush Jr. is the first President in US history to enter office with a criminal record. 

22. Bush Jr. has set the all-time record for most people worldwide to simultaneously protest a leader (10 million people), shattering the record for protests against any person in the history of mankind. 

23. He slashed funding to the Violence Against Women act. 

24. He has invaded and occupied two countries at a continuing cost of one billion dollars per week. 

25. He appointed Charles Pickering, a notorious segregationist from Mississippi, as a federal judge and suspiciously did so on Martin Luther King Day. 

26. Bush has spent over $100 billion on Iraq, leaving states to face the largest budget crises in decades and forced to cut off public services; now with the federal deficit at a new high. Bush Jr. wants to award more tax breaks to the wealthy. 

27. Under new Bush legislation (the Clear Skies initiative), power plants are allowed to emit triple the amount of highly-toxic mercury into the environment. 

28. Bush Jr. failed to protect 3 million acres of the Tongass National Forest from logging. The Tongass has the highest concentration of bald eagles on Earth and has already lost 700 square miles to logging with 33 more logging permits pending. Not even the sanctity of our endangered national bird can compete with Bush campaign contributions provided by the forest industry. 

29. He is on pace to have taken more vacation than any president in history, including a 28-day vacation right before 9/11. Bush Jr. has taken 6 months of vacation in total... do you know anyone that gets 6 months of vacation? 

30. He pulled out of the Kyoto agreement on global warming, which had been agreed upon by 178 other countries. 

31. Bush Jr. is endorsed by fundamentalist Pat Robertson who claims that God told him Bush will win re-election and that “It doesn’t make a difference what Bush does because God is blessing himâ€?. Bush keeps some great company, but keep in mind Robertson was also the nitwit that blamed the 9/11 attacks on gays and suggested that we “nukeâ€? the US State Department. 

32. He set the record for most executions by any governor in American history. 152 in total; some of whom were mentally disabled. 
33. Has repeatedly stonewalled the public investigation into 9/11. 
34. Bush Jr. declined to fully fund the AIDS initiative after promising to do so. The final cuts that resulted were over $2 billion. 
35. He still suggests that homosexuals are “sinnersâ€? and is pushing legislation that would forbid gay partnerships and deny fundamental civil rights on a national and local level. 
36. Choked on a pretzel and nearly lost his life while seated in front of a TV. *should've... damn him...*
37. Bush Jr. has gone to great lengths to prevent investigations of his friends at Enron and Halliburton. More time and money was spent investigating the Monica Lewinsky affair than has been spent investigating one of the biggest corporate rip-offs in history. 
38. Bush Jr. has set the record for the fewest amount of press conferences by a President since the advent of television. 
39. Responsible for a $521 billion budget deficit - less than 4 years after inheriting a $20 billion surplus. 
40. He has made repeated attempts to legalize oil drilling in the National Wildlife Refuge. 
*shivers* how disgusting

rendom poetry... of mine, i might add...
Hannah Kane
8/23/04
I wish that I knew you;
why are you this way? 
-Why are we so far –
away from each other when I want to
be
so
close to you? I can’t shake

these feelings that I have. I can’t shake
the fact that I love you and want to be with you always. I can’t shake
this feeling that I will die alone. 
I will
die
alone and you will be happy. 

You will be happy with someone else;
I will
die
alone. You are moving too fast,
you have too much potential. 
You cannot wait for me.

I love you. 
I miss you. 
You are the light of my eyes.
All I can do for right now is sit
here and think unto myself:
why do you want him? 

I will
die
alone. You will be happy, but
I will
die
alone. 

that's the one, i call it "poem" (yeah, i'm an artist, i'm allowed to untitle my art). this one is called... uhm...*goes and checks* oh, this one is called deaf. 

Thunder rolls
and I cannot
hear you
anymore. 

woo! comment please!

A song I have fallen in love with - Jaw, Knee, Music by NOFX... my comments in {}

Johnny has a problem
Johnny is out of control
He had a TV party
With the kids in the black hole
Stealing people's mail
And lynching the landlord
{dead kennedys song, let's lynch the landlord... O.o}
Things to do when angry, young and bored
{fortunately, i have the internet...}

Johnny was only a lad
Johnny hates the scene
First he hit an old man
Then he hit and run Pauline
The record player spinning the best times
I never had
So why do my old records make me sad?

Cause they're so bad
And no one seems to understand
The glory of guitar
When out of tune
The off timing
The singers who can't sing
The beauty of love

He's a teenage vegetable
This is the last resort
He's got PCP in his veins
He lives inside a quart
Johnny is a punk rocker
Johnny is he queer?
Johnny needed two bags
And a car to commandeer
Johnny wasn't liked much
But he had a lot of friends
Waits on stage
Eating ludes
A mindless brainwashed pig
Johnny was a good man
Till the day that he got shot
He had a jacked up chevy
That could blow you off the spot

Johnny always needs
More than he takes
Forgets a couple chords
Forgets a couple breaks
Johnny says he's bound
By only six strings to this world
Johnny questions sellout bands
And Johnny pux0rs Ritilin
And Johnny is an angry amputee

This is the poem that goes with the story... heehee...

The darkness falls on the valley;
The darkness falls with the rain. 
Come all, darkness fall, it’s an ebony ball;
Come all, to humanity’s bane. 

The crops in the fields all have withered,
And the dark wind blows ‘cross the plain,
Night’s sanctuary is down on it’s knees,
Again you will find me, in pain. 

Go tell it to those in the city,
Tell those who dwell on the lane. 
Go tell it to those who forever pose,
Their lives now half-gone down the drain. 

The darkness falls on the valley;
The darkness falls with the rain. 
Come all, darkness fall, it’s an ebony ball;
Come all, to humanity’s bane. 

The blood shall be spilt around midnight,
Served in goblets on the main. 
The lightning shall strike at the heads on the pike,
Not for your renewal or gain. 

The flesh of the undead shall wander. 
You’ll see gore and gobbets of brain. 
And then they will awake at the sole of the lake,
Yea, come heed this grisly refrain. 

The darkness falls on the valley;
The darkness falls with the rain. 
Come all, darkness fall, it’s an ebony ball;
Come all, to humanity’s bane. 

mwahahaha!!! evilness!!!

heehee... a new story... run and hide, everyone!!!

He’d always resented his name. It wasn’t the sort of name a singer had. Staeven Etnom was an apple-seller, maybe an organ grinder, but not a singer. How he’d ended up with a talent for singing was beyond him. He sat, brooding about this, on the curb of the street, watching the wheels roll by him. 
Wheels fascinated Staeven, and from his spot on the curb he could see stroller wheels and automobile wheels and buggy wheels and tractor wheels, vending cart wheels and bicycle wheels and motorcycle wheels and rollerblade wheels. Wheels were comfortable and easy, not difficult to understand - all they required was matter to roll on and an axle to hold them in place. 
A snatch of song rolled into Staeven’s head on one of those wheels. “And the dark wind blows ‘cross the plain...night’s sanctuary is down on its knees, again you will find me, in pain...” Realizing what he had just sung made Staeven shake his head remorsefully. It was a scrap of the poem that his mother had written; in fact, the last one that had curled out behind her pen. 
Clouds blew in overhead, challenging the sunlight to a duel. A clutter of leaves blew down the street like the vampires, calling to Staeven to raise his head. And so he did, looking up to realize that the street was now deserted. There were no longer any wheels, no simple little circlets to keep him company. Staeven shivered, recollecting the similar experience his mother had had prior to...
He cut off his train of thought. Nobody in their right mind wanted to think about such a heinous exigency befalling the reason for their existence. 
Staeven suddenly had an urge to go home, something brought on by the sudden rise in humidity despite the chill of the air. Under the iron-cast canopy of the clouds, one little man in one large city hurried home, coat collar up, hands in pockets, acknowledged only by the single, cryptic watcher stepping out from behind the column in front of the citadel. 


3 Months Later

It was a dark tavern, to be sure, but what else could be expected of a place on this side of town, at this time of night? A fireplace of embers glowed alongside the bar, casting an eerie sanguine glow over the wooden stools. Two gruff-looking men sat across from each other in a booth to the left, each with what used to be a pint of ale sitting across from them. 
Staeven trudged up to the bar, feeling intimidated. Lithe didn’t always stand up well to burly. 
A busty blonde in a low-cut, lace-rimmed dress the color of absinthe turned around, wiping her hands on a towel and batting eyes like nighttime floodwaters. “Well, wha’ll i’ be, Jerry?” 
Staeven looked around, a little disturbed that he hadn’t seen this Jerry fellow come up behind him. Then it dawned on him, a cymbal crash echoing through an empty apartment building. “Who, me?” 
The blonde nodded once, slowly, raising an eyebrow at him. 
Embarrassed, Staeven sat down on the stool in front of her, looking at his hands. When she cleared her throat daintily, he looked up to find that more bare skin than most men have on their entire bodies was staring him in the face. Going beet-red, Staeven mumbled his order for a cup of tea. 
The blonde flashed bright white teeth and turned away to fix his drink. Staeven closed his eyes, startled by his own idiocy. When he opened them, he found that he may as well have not. The pitch blackness encompassed him, ensorcelled him, ensnared him. The flit of tune passed through his head, as it had begun to do with alarming frequency: “The crops in the fields all have withered, and the dark wind blows ‘cross the plain...”
Shaking his head, Staeven blinked again, opening his eyes to find the blonde woman again, looking oddly at him. “Your tea, Jerry,” she said, hesitation laced through her voice. 
Thanking her, Staeven raised the tankard of brew to his lips, only to have his treacherous, shaky hands spill it over the front of his tunic. The waitress, stifling a smile, turned away, then turned back with a towel. “I’ve seen drinkin’ problems, darlin’, bu’ tha’ jus’ beats all.” 
Baring his teeth in a sarcastic grin, Staeven mopped himself up with the somewhat grungy towel. One of the two men in the booth pulled out a long cigar; the other man lit the end from across the table. 
The blonde returned. “Here,” she said, sliding another tankard across the bar to him. “From th’ look on y’face, I figured y’might need somethin’ a li’l... stronger.” She turned around again, revealing another large expanse of bared skin. She looked over her shoulder, studying him from the corner of her eye. “And if y’need any...” she turned around to face him, “Comfortin’...” she leaned over the counter, elbows folded to assert her breasts to the fullest, “I’ll jus’ be upstairs.” 
She walked off, the little door that provided separation from the space behind the bar to the space in front of it swinging shut behind her. Staeven couldn’t help noticing how nicely her hips rolled beneath the tautness of her dress. The awkward silence that Staeven had found himself trapped in was shattered by the clanging of the bell above the door. 
Staeven looked up to see a hassled-looking brunette careening through the door, across the floor of the pub, and through the little entry portal. She skidded to a halt right in front of Staeven. An elf, he noticed; the pointed ears gave it away. At any rate, she was either elf or vampiress, although she didn’t appear to possess any of the natural grace of the elves, nor the seductive, catlike elegance of their bloodlicking kindred. 
“You’ll wan’ a’drink tha’ afore i’ gits warm,” she said aloud, and it took Staeven a few moments to realize that she was speaking to him. He picked up his glass, looked at it nervously, swilled it around, then downed the whole thing. Almost instantaneously, though it could have been his imagination, he could feel the alcohol numbing his nerves, making the synapses in his head more gummy. 
“‘Ang on, then! I know ‘oo you is!” she winked at him knowingly. He raised his eyebrows at her. “Y’re gettin’ quoite famous-like, up in th’ eelectric par’ o’ th’ ci’y,” she whispered, leaning in close. Staeven was glad that she, at least, was wearing something sensible: a sort of smock draped over a kimono, both black, arguing with her shocking-blue lacquered fingernails. 
One of the men in the booth got up and left. As he did so, his former companion raised his tankard in the air, calling, “Lyza!” The brunette, apparently Lyza, quickly filled another tankard with mulled mead, then walked with it over to the man. “Wot toime d’ y’ ge’ off t’nite, m’dear?” 
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Too laite f’th’ loikes o’you t’be stayin’ up, Mat,” she told him, then walked back to the bar with Mat’s empty glass. 
Mat fixed Staeven with an odd sort of stare, sipping at his mead. Staeven, uncomfortable beneath this gaze, paid for the tea that he’d wanted and the whiskey the blonde barmaid had given him, then left a tip for Lyza that made her brown eyes grow as big as dinner plates, and left. 


6 Days Later

He’d always hated public performance. Even when he’d just been a teenager, not so long ago, Staeven had had trouble singing and strumming his guitar with the case out in front of him for money, on the sidewalk of the same street with the curb that he’d sat on a few months before, when he’d first seen the watcher. 
He could see that dark figure even now, not too far away from where he sat on the stage. A few hundred people and one guitar separated the two of them, but they were the only ones in here, really. 
The drummer came in with a cymbal roll; quiet at first, then growing like a tumor until it encompassed the entire hall. The stand-up bass player, Chalie, hit his notes - it was time for Staeven to come in. The song was about a girl who worked in a dark bar, saving up money until she could leave the city that has oppressed her for her entire life. Staeven, signaling to Chalie and Darla, the drummer, to hold up for a minute, stood up to address the crowd. 
“I’d like to make a dedication,” he said, his theater voice rolling from his throat like milk with honey, “to a Miss Lyza Partesuom from the Lower East Side, who inspired me to write this song.” There were cheers from the audience; a few, it seemed, had been to Lyza’s tavern, and knew who she was. Staeven found himself wishing that Lyza herself were present, though it appeared not to be so. 
With that, Staeven ripped out a guitar solo, ending with the cues from the song they usually played before the barmaid one. Darla churned out an amazing cymbal roll, Chalie came in right on time, and Staeven joined on schedule, playing for three measures before coming in with the vocals. 
“Tucked away behind the counter, in the gloom below the floor, taking tips as you take orders; this won’t be forevermore...”


Later That Night

Toryl Brendton woke up, shivering, sweat streaming down her face like tears of unremembered evil. Scrambling out of bed, she clicked on the lamp and glanced at her alarm clock. One o’clock in the morning, same as yesterday. She yawned. The nightmares were keeping her awake. She rubbed her eyes; she would get no more sleep this night. 
She unconsciously massaged her numb wrists. She hardly noticed the desensitized feeling anymore. They occurred every morning. 
Once the blood had returned to her hands, she picked up her notebook, grabbed her inkwell and quill, then scrawled a bit of a note to herself, for later review. 

I am deteriorating. I can feel it. The pillars that once supported me crumble and decay; an old elephant shot down by poachers, only to be found lacking in ivory. All I truly have left is my writing, the words written in blood drawn from my spilling veins. 
These veins were torn in the dream, the repeating dream that came again last night. I lay on the table, convicted of the crime. They slit my forearms and tore out the veins, ripping my skin as the blood vessels separated from my body. 
I have not slept for days. I scrawl, tired, barely able to copy the words that dart like hummingbirds through my mind. I no longer have anything to live for. I am alone. 
I walk down the hallway, absorbed in this death that I am living. The people part like the Red Sea as I walk through them. Their faces are blurred, and the paint that made them into the illusion of real runs down as the color makes contact with my tears. 
I am not here by my own will. I am not here by the will of anybody else. Therefore I am not here at all. My life is forfeit; my life is void. The coupon that I could have used to buy one and get one free expired years ago. There is no reason left. The feelings are gone. 
All but the fear. 

Toryl read back over what she had written, slightly unnerved. Trying to make it better, she grasped the quill once again, this time to write a poem. She closed her eyes and opened her mind, letting the words flow on their own. 

The darkness falls on the valley;
The darkness falls with the rain. 
Come all, darkness fall, it’s an ebony ball;
Come all, to humanity’s bane. 

She shook her head. She was off-kilter tonight, that was all.